


Monster

by the_liar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24324532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_liar/pseuds/the_liar
Summary: Temporarily on hold for ADD reasons***“We can't risk that. Do you see what I'm saying?” Jon finished, his brows knitted in concern.“Yeah, man.” Theon nodded. He was feeling more charitable after the meal. He eyed the man's well fitted black slacks. He clearly had a one note closet, but Theon didn't see a reason to complain.Jon sighed, his shoulders drifting down in relief. “Glad we got that settled.” He started the car. His eyes were firmly fixed on the road in front of them. “Where do you want me to drop you off?” he asked.“Shit, I just remembered.” Theon said, holding up a hand to stall him. “I can't drive, and my ride just bailed on me. Will you give me a ride to work tomorrow if I suck your dick again?”Jon stared at him, his eyes growing wider and his cheeks redder. “What did you say?”
Relationships: Asha Greyjoy/Qarl the Maid, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow/Ygritte (ASoIaF), Theon Greyjoy/Ygritte
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner

Theon yawned and blinked away the sunlight from his eyes. It slanted through the broken white blinds hanging limply in the window. From his seat at the high counter, he settled his head into the shade in his arms and watched Asha. She was bustling around the kitchen, scraping at crusty plates and pans, wiping stale crumbs off counters, and sniffing the milk in the fridge.

“You want pancakes or french toast?” she asked.

“Is that even a question? French toast for sure.” Theon said.

Asha was making him breakfast to celebrate his newfound employment. As if she weren't the one who had forced him into the temp job, Theon thought. She had promised to do it weeks ago, but they put it off after an initial, disastrous attempt. When Asha had brought it up again last night, Theon made an excuse, but she had insisted.

Theon scowled at the granite countertop where he lay his head. It was a hideous thing, an ugly mashup of coral and gray that resembled pencil shavings. It was a part of an upgrade package they had to pay for with an extra twenty dollars in rent. Asha had insisted on those counters too. He'd always hated them.

“Fuck,” Asha said, interrupting his thoughts. She'd dropped an egg on the floor, the yolk and white splashing across the beige kitchen tiles like a Pollock splatter. Theon's phone buzzed in his pocket. He grimaced and pressed the button to ignore.

Asha left the egg to carefully measure a teaspoon of cinnamon. She dumped it in a white bowl, adding a splash of milk and another egg. She beat the concoction messily with one hand and brushed a dark lock of hair from her forehead with another. She had a pixie cut, or did, but it had been too long since her last trim and had grown into her eyes. Theon had suggested the cut for her years ago. She'd been hesitant initially, but now it was the only way she wore her hair.

“How's work going?” she asked.

“Oh man, I forgot I hadn't told you.” he said. He shot up, grinning like Pyp had just told him there was free lunch in the break room. “So, check it. There's this dude, Grenn. He's a medical assistant. He had to go to _school_ for that shit. He got a _degree_. Dude comes up to me all the time and asks me questions, fucking _medical questions_. Just last week he came up to me and asked if these two drugs were the same thing. These long-ass nonsense words like abracadabran and abravadabran or some shit.” He shook his head in disgust. “ I didn't get my degree in gibberish. How about you ask the fucking doctor?”

Asha laughed, her eyes crinkling. She had a smear of egg on her cheek that stretched with her smile. “There's one at every job. We had a grand total of three asshats one summer, all contract workers, all dumb as shit.” She shook her head. “That was a few years back, remember? I had to live at the site to clean up all their messes.”

Theon glanced around at the mess of the kitchen. “Yeah...” he said.

Satisfied with the consistency of the mixture, Asha dipped a slice of bread in it. She then turned to the stove, her head fitting neatly under the bar style lights. Theon had to duck in the kitchen to avoid them, but she was shorter than him by two inches. From behind, her height combined with her narrow shoulders and hips meant that she was often mistaken for a man. Though it never seemed to bother her. She would laugh and tease the offending man or woman until they were red from embarrassment.

“So...” Asha slid up in front of him and leaned against the counter. She grinned in what she seemed to think was an endearing manner. He did not find it so. She never made that face unless she was going to demand something from him, and Asha did not take no for an answer.

“You've got a couple paychecks now. Think it's enough for a car? Stygg's trying to unload his old pickup. He only wants a thousand for it. You won't find a better deal than that for an old Ranger. Not one that still runs.”

So that was why she'd dragged herself out of bed before noon today. Theon did not want to have this argument again. “Do I really look like a pickup truck kind of guy?” he asked, blandly.

She pressed her lips together. “I'm sure you can find a four door or whatever. I can ask around at work.”

“No thanks,” Theon said. His phone buzzed in his pocket again, and he hit ignore with a glower.

Asha took a breath. “Look,” she said, her voice soft, “I know I've been asking a lot lately.” Theon rolled his eyes. Here we go, he thought. “But I can't keep driving you, and Qarl can't either. It's busy season already. When am I gonna fucking sleep?” Her voice had harshened with rising anger. She took another breath and lowered it. “You have to know what I mean,” she finished softly.

Theon clenched his hands on his knees. He ran though scenarios in his head. None of them ended well. She was such a bitch. She knew why he couldn't drive, but she didn't care. No one did.

He flashed her a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Don't worry. I won't ask you for a ride again,” he said. He would have to call in favors from all his contacts, but he could do it, at least for a little while.

She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “Theon, come on. That's not what I meant. I can still give you rides I just –”

Theon slammed his hands on the counter, leaned toward her menacingly. “I said I don't need it!”

Her face curled into a snarl.“Dammit Theon! Why don't you listen to what I'm saying? I'm _trying!_ “

“Oh yeah, you're trying real fucking hard. You didn't even puke in the sink this time. You want a fucking medal?”

She back handed the bowl in front of her, splashing the white liquid across the counter. “ _Fuck!_ ” she yelled.

Theon sneered at her as he hopped down from the bar stool. “I'm going out,” he said on his way to the door. “Enjoy your soggy fucking bread. You forgot to turn the stove on.” He slammed the door behind him.

Theon stomped down the short sidewalk to the dirt road in a blind rage. Fuck Asha and fuck that apartment. He'd get his own place. He had a little money saved up from work. He could couch surf for a while and save enough to for a rent share with a roommate. He'd never have to see that beak-nosed witch again.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he tore it out. He did not bother to check the caller ID before answering, “ _What?_ ”

There was a stunned pause before Jon's deep voice crackled on the line. “I'm glad I finally caught you. Is this a bad time?”

Theon clenched his fist. This motherfucker had been blowing up his phone all weekend, and he had the gall to ask if it was a bad time. “What do you want?” he asked, not hiding his irritation.

Another pause before Jon said, “I understand you may be upset after the events that happened on Friday night. I would like to speak with you in private before work tomorrow. I want to make sure we can all be comfortable in the office.”

Theon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that's not gonna happen. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Jon called out, but Theon hung up the phone.

Jon rang him twice before he finally picked up. “Stop calling!” he said.

“Theon, we need to talk. Let me take you out to lunch, and we can have a chat okay?”

Theon paused. He felt the hollow in his stomach. He'd not eaten since around noon yesterday. “Fine,” he said.

Jon's black car gleamed in the sun as it pulled off onto the dirt road that led to their apartment. Theon had been disappointed to learn that Jon drove merely a Toyota Camry, not an Audi A4 or even a Lexus ES. Still, he had the leather interior at least. The dark gray seats were clean and soft and shiny. Theon caught Jon staring at him as he slid into the passenger side. He met Jon’s gaze steadily, and the other man jerked his eyes back to look through the windshield. He was wearing a sky blue dress shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up past his elbows. Despite the cool blast of the air conditioning in the car, Theon saw dark stains under his armpits. Good, he thought. Jon deserved to sweat after all the trouble he'd put him through.

“You okay with fast food?” Jon asked, pulling back out onto the road.

“A burger sounds fantastic.” Theon leaned back against the leather seat and sighed.

Jon drove him to Burger Jenny’s. He picked up a meal for Theon and a drink for himself before parking in the large empty lot used by the restaurant. A derelict building watched from the far end of the cracked concrete desert. It had once been a grocery store. Now it was an homage to the rise and fall of industry in a small town. Theon gazed at it as he unwrapped his burger and bit into the juicy, sour, and meaty interior. He felt a rush of joy at the taste. He scarfed it down, wiping the grease from his lips before it could dribble on his shirt. It was gone too soon, but he turned to the fries. They were soggy, unfortunately, but still good. He upended the container into his mouth to get the last few pieces. He picked up his cup and sipped at the root beer inside. He needed it to wash down the ball of grease he felt forming in his throat. He cleared it and turned to Jon who had been droning on about office politics.

“We can't risk that. Do you see what I'm saying?” Jon finished, his brows knitted in concern.

“Yeah, man.” Theon nodded. He was feeling more charitable after the meal. He eyed the man's well fitted black slacks. He clearly had a one note closet, but Theon didn't see a reason to complain.

Jon sighed, his shoulders drifting down in relief. “Glad we got that settled.” He started the car. His eyes were firmly fixed on the road in front of them. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“Shit, I just remembered.” Theon said, holding up a hand to stall him. “I can't drive, and my ride just bailed on me. Will you give me a ride to work tomorrow if I suck your dick again?”

Jon stared at him, his eyes growing wider and his cheeks redder. “What did you say?”

Theon flashed a grin. He held up one finger and then another. “One BJ, one way.” He laughed.

Jon shook his head in disbelief. “Did you listen to a thing I said?”

“Yeah, man.” Theon said, shrugging. “No fooling around in the office. I got it.”

“No!” Jon banged his fist down on the steering wheel. He rubbed his face in irritation. “Jesus Christ, do you hear a single word I say?”

Theon laughed again. “Nah, man. I never listen to you, you fucking tool.”

“Did you just...” Jon trailed off. He squinted at the black squiggles of tar on the road as if it might spell out a message explaining what exactly was happening to him. Unable to find what he was looking for, he turned to Theon, his teeth bared. “You really want to go there? Fine! You are the most unprofessional, lazy, useless sap of a man I have ever met. You do a quarter of what a normal receptionist does, and your caseload is half of theirs. If I wasn't such a gentleman, you would have been fired already. And now you're saying ' _ha ha ha ha_ ' like a child?!”

Theon did not stop laughing, and Jon grabbed the azure collar of his shirt. He leaned forward and lowered his voice threateningly. “Shut your fucking mouth.” He was close enough for Theon to smell the cola on his breath. Theon smirked, and Jon's pupils widened.

“Make me,” Theon said. He eyed Jon's crotch pointedly. The man was hard already. Who knew how long the doctor had been into him? Theon shivered in excitement.

Jon followed Theon's eyes, stopping at their target. He blinked hard and shifted uneasily, dropping his hand from Theon's shirt. Theon listened to his breath, loud in the quiet of the car.

Jon glanced over his shoulders as if there were cops waiting. “Not here,” he said finally. He pulled back out on to the road. Theon leaned back in his seat. Where were they going? What would they do when they got there? He glanced at the bulge in Jon's slacks and moaned. Theon was so fucking hard it hurt. He squeezed himself through his jeans. Jon's eyes widened as he struggled to keep them on the road. “Almost there.” His voice was strained.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled into the gravel driveway of a small gray ranch style house. In contrast to the old fashioned exterior, everything inside was modern monochrome, clean, and sparse. The living room centered on an overstuffed white couch. It was backed by several small framed posters. All were in black and white, and all had misaligned focal points due to the poor matting of the pieces in their frames. Whoever had sold Jon these had done him a disservice, Theon thought. As he heard the click of the lock behind him, he thought he could forgive Jon his poor taste for now.

He turned to see Jon staring at him, his gray eyes ticking back and forth. “Down on your knees,” he said.

Theon kneeled on the thick gray carpet. It was as soft as a mattress underneath him. Jon crept forward, his hands shaking as he unzipped his fly and took out his cock. Theon's mouth watered in anticipation. It was fully hard, thick, and uncut. The open V of Jon's slacks revealed a thatch of dark hair.

“Open your mouth,” Jon said. Theon leaned his head back, mouth wide. He kept his eyes on Jon's dick. “One blow, one ride, huh? You're working for this, so fucking earn it.” Jon grabbed Theon by the hair and brought him down onto his cock.

Theon moaned. He sucked the head, still cupping himself. Jon's warm flesh in his mouth was amazing. A deep, rich aroma with notes of salt and bitterness. Dick was an acquired taste like coffee, and Jon was a dark roast. The holy grail against his lips cleared his mind of all but one pressing thought. He needed Jon to fuck him. Now.

He pulled off the cock with a soft plop. Jon was staring at him intensely, a red tinge across his cheekbones and around his eyes.

“Throat fuck me.” Theon said, breathlessly.

Jon's eyes widened. He gazed down at Theon's mouth, as if sizing it up. He hesitated, then said, “I don't know how. I've never done that.”

Theon grabbed Jon's hips, smiling. “You know how to fuck right? My throat's the hole.” He licked a stripe from the base of his balls to his slit. Then he pressed his face against Jon's hips, breathed in his musk. “Come on,” he said. He guided Jon's hand to the back of his head and took his cock back into his mouth.

Jon pushed forward, slowly, hesitantly into his mouth. Theon moaned, but Jon stopped at the back of his throat. Theon needed to show him how much he could take. He grabbed Jon's ass and pulled him forward. His cock slid into his throat with a delicious burn. He couldn't breath, but he didn't need to.

There was nothing now but Jon. Jon's cock filling his throat. Jon's pubes tickling his nose. Jon's hand wrapped in his hair. The moment lasted for an eternity, and then Jon began to thrust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think I got some of the voices nailed down finally. Let me know what you think in the comments.


	2. A Mistake

“Did you mean to write millimeters or centimeters?” Jon's voice was quiet and reasonable. One might even think calm, but Theon knew better.

“I meant to write...” Grenn answered, followed by a tapping noise, a keyboard or a pen. “Which patient were you talking about again?”

Theon heard Jon's sharp intake of breath and grinned. The two men were secreted away in the partially enclosed nook of the blood-sampling room. He could not see them from his desk in the yellow prison of the waiting room. His only companion there was the musty smell of old magazines. His guard was the constant _tick, tick, tick_ of the oversized clock. And his warden...?

“Grenn, how many patients did you test for TB yesterday?” Jon asked, pleasantly.

“One...” Grenn answered like a schoolboy caught smoking in the toilets.

“So which patient am I talking about? You tell me.”

“Uh...Johnson?”

“And how massive was the red spot on his arm? About the size of a walnut?”

“N...no, smaller...”

“So you understand when you write centimeters instead of millimeters, that flags him for a follow-up, which results in his being scheduled for a totally unnecessary dose of radiation in the form of a chest x-ray that he got around say...10 AM today?”

Silence. Theon could have cackled. He imagined the chagrined look on Grenn's dull features.

“Go file a report.” Jon said.

“Yes, Dr. Snow.” Grenn hurried off to examination room two where he went to hide from Jon after a scolding.

Theon turned as he heard Jon's heavy footsteps behind him. He flashed a wicked grin. Jon returned it with a sneer as if to say _you're next_. Good, Theon thought. But then Jon holed himself up in his office to quietly finish his paperwork.

Then the afternoon was dull, dull, dull. It had started with so much promise. Jon had returned from the hospital at one. While he was usually in a foul mood after his hospital shifts, he was darker today than Theon had ever seen him. He'd had a meeting with his supervisor, the head of the medical department. Theon had not met the man, but he'd milked every bit of gossip he could from Grenn. Apparently the administrator was charming and generous with his compliments in that small town way so many had here. That gave newcomers an impression of safety to speak their minds with him. To their own detriment, for he brooked no dissent and was in high favor with his superiors, which allowed him the freedom to terminate who and when he chose.

Had Jon been given such a threat today? Theon glanced at his closed office door, but it gave him no answer. Instead, it mocked him with a clashing of colors so abhorrent to the eye that Theon thought he'd rather be blind than to have to look upon it each day. For no reason he could understand, Jon dutifully paid homage to that door, wiping the dust from his nameplate each morning. Theon shuddered to imagine the series of mishaps that was required to purchase that door with that color and to then order that style of nameplate to put on it. Shiny gold letters against matte black backing against neon mint door against aged yellow walls. It could only be improved by a thick layer of dust, Theon thought, or better yet, paint.

He turned back to his computer and opened the patient list for the thousandth time that day. All were scheduled. He glanced at the black trays on his desk, labeled “To Fax” and “To Scan.” Both were empty. He opened his phone to browse, and of course, the first thing that popped up was PornHub. And then every man on that site was Jon or a poor imitation of him. Theon closed his eyes and thought of the doctor gaping at him, his lips curving from disdain to reverence, as he worshiped at the alter of Theon. When he'd given his final throes in Theon's throat, he'd clung to his hair, like it was his only tether to a steep mountain climb. He'd pressed his pubic bone hard against Theon's nose, and Theon pulled him closer still, until his eyes were watering and his cock weeping. Jon's eyes were wide then, his cheeks red, and brows knitted in concern. And he'd stared at Theon like he couldn't quite believe he was real.

Theon shuddered. He could not take this tension. No, there was nothing to be done, but to go in the office and demand that Jon take his payment early.

Theon opened the door to find the doctor hidden behind three open charts splayed out on his desk. The maroon shells of their binders were drowning in mounds of colorful paper. In their maws, he saw tabs of neon yellow, pink, and green. He saw papers so thickly gobbed with toner that he could only guess at what the words were meant to be, if they were there at all. The black specks crowding the white pages seemed to his eyes a massive failure at stippling. Theon did not care to eye the dizzying jumble further, so he turned his gaze to a fairer sight. Jon was hunched over his computer, a cold mug of coffee nearby, half drunk. He squinted at the monitor, an ancient CRT, as he typed vacantly. His eyes were run through with red, and Theon wondered when he'd last blinked. He cleared his throat, politely.

Jon blinked heavily at Theon. His fingers still tapped his keyboard. “What?” he asked.

Theon stretched like a cat and locked the door neatly behind him. He sauntered over to Jon's desk, perched on its edge and grinned. “Grenn snuck off for the weekend. We're alone,” he said.

The nearsighted look in Jon's eyes came into focus. He coiled and then shot up from his chair, like a cobra rising to strike his target. “Get out!” he hissed, but Theon was not afraid. He crept forward and dropped to his knees. He clutched Jon's hips and slid his mouth over the rough fabric shrouding Jon's hardening cock.

Jon gave a grunt but pushed him away. “I told you. We're not doing this here. Go back to your desk.” Theon saw the slightest tremble in Jon fingers as he spoke. He gave the doctor a sweet smile and reached for his belt. “I said, stop!” Jon smacked at his hand like priest with a ruler.

Theon stretched to his feet. The doctor was shorter even than Asha. “I told you. There's no one here. It's fine,” Theon said. He sat back on Jon's desk and undid his jeans, took himself out. He licked his palm and grasped the base of his already hard cock. “If you don't want to join in, you can just watch.” He shrugged and began to jerk himself, drawing out each stroke.

Jon stared at him, brows furrowed. His eyes ticked to the door, back to Theon. He grimaced, grabbed Theon's collar. “I said, get out.” His voice was muddled by desire. Theon put one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his belt. He pulled Jon down to meet his lips, and tongue, and teeth. He unzipped Jon's slacks and pulled him out to stroke even as he jerked himself. He swallowed Jon's heavy breaths. His own moans grew in volume until Jon pushed him away, back against the desk.

“You need to be quiet or leave,” Jon said.

Theon squeezed Jon's thick cock and licked his lips. “Fuck me, and I will,” he said.

Jon tugged his hand off him and pushed him against the desk, harder this time. “You're a fucking little shit. Get out of my office.”

Theon put his hands back to brace himself against further abuse. “No,” he said. “I don't think I will.”

“No?” Jon asked, his eyes wide in incredulity.

“We're doing this now.” Theon said and casually reached behind himself to bat a file off onto the floor. “Or I'll call your boss and tell him where that dick of yours has been.”

Half a grin came to Jon's face, and, for a moment, he looked as though he might laugh. But then he grabbed Theon's shoulder with a sneer. “You really want to do this? Fine. Let's do it. But then that's it for me and this job. I'm dropping you off and blocking your number. If you show up to work, I'll call the police.”

Theon smirked. “Fine by me.” He kicked Jon's chair and it rolled to the wall with a thunk. He hopped down from his perch and took Jon's warm flesh in his mouth and sucked until drool ran down the shaft in rivulets to pool in the pubic hair at its base. Jon's fingers were curled in his hair and Theon looked up to see his eyes half closed and mouth half open.

Theon stood, tugging his boxer briefs and pants down. He took Jon's wrist and placed it on his hip and leaned over the spot he'd cleared on the desk. Jon came up behind him, breathing heavily. Theon felt the slick head against his smoothly shaved ass. “I – I don't have any lube,” Jon said.

“I'm good,” Theon said, winking back at Jon. He braced himself on the desk and arched his back. Jon pushed forward. As the head inched inside him, Theon gasped at the shock of pain, his cock twitching. Still he pushed back against him as Jon dove further. When they met at the hilt, Jon muttered, “Jesus Christ.” His voice was thick with arousal. He began humping in a slow, smooth rhythm, plunging deeply and then pulling back. Theon met his hips with each thrust, angling his hips to press Jon's cock against him so that he saw sparks with each stroke. He jerked himself and the pressure inside him grew, and then it was running in waves over him. He moaned deeply and shuddered, squeezing the base of his cock as threads of white cum brightened the espresso desk. Jon did not silence him this time but gave a few more desperate thrusts before he came too, slick in Theon's ass. He collapsed against Theon then, breathed in little hot puffs against his back. After a few moments, Jon started to soften, and Theon felt almost empty as Jon slid out of him. Jon leaned over him, turning his head gently so that he could whisper directly into the soft cup of his ear.

“Clean yourself up, pack up anything you own, and then wait outside. You're leaving, _now_.”


	3. An Accident

Theon relaxed into the leather trimmed seats of Jon's Camry. He flipped on the radio, ignoring a glare from Jon, and skimmed through the stations. He passed over twangy country and overeager salesmen to land on hip hop. He did not use a seat belt, which usually earned a lecture from Jon, but he seemed to be gearing up for something larger. Theon reclined his seat and gazed out the window. The narrow tips of the dark green hemlocks tickled the clouds tufting the deep blue sky. He yawned.

Behind him, Jon tapped at the steering wheel. He played it erratically, half following the rumbling bass of the music but adding his own sullen offbeats. Theon did nothing to encourage him, but Jon began anyway. He started softly, as a chiding mother.

“How often do you do this?”

“Hmm?” Theon asked, yawning again for effect. That must have gotten Jon worked up as his next words were those of a scolding schoolteacher.

“How many times have you done this?”

Theon stretched languidly. “You mean fuck?” he asked. If Jon was going to be obtuse, then so was he.

“Without a condom.” Jon said, as if he was the first to inform Theon of their existence.

Theon laughed as he sat up. “I don't kiss and tell. Lucky for you.”

Jon frowned at that. “ _How many_?” he growled. He seemed to have abandoned the schoolteacher for something more threatening. Though his low, sharp tone was blunted by the blast of the A/C and the blare of Old Town Road from the speakers _._

Theon shot him an accusing glare. “You think I have AIDS? Because I'm gay? I'm on PreP, dude.”

“No, I didn't mean...” Jon grimaced and banged his fist against the steering wheel. “Tell me how many partners you've had!” As they approached an intersection, its light flashed from yellow to red. Jon braked hard, and Theon braced himself in his seat. His heart jerked upward and settled in his throat. He worked to swallow it down as they idled. He glanced at Jon to see if he had noticed his discomfort, but he was glaring at the light, perhaps trying to will it green.

_Partners_. Theon thought. He could have laughed. Such a fucking doctor. Jon must be mentally castrating himself for dipping his dick in the STD stew he imagined in Theon's ass. Theon almost felt sorry for him. He gave a great world-weary sight and gazed out the window at a forty-five degree angle to best display his attractive jaw line. “You're the only who's been in my ass since January. Happy?”

“After what you did back there? I could have you arrested!”

No, you won't, Theon thought, because that would lead to a question of the circumstances. What was the point in involving authorities who would punish victim the same as perpetrator? Jon understood that as well as he did. Still, Theon supposed they were even now. Each had made a threat they did not intend to keep. Perhaps a show of guilt now would appease Jon into silence. “Yeah, I was just fucking with you,” he said. “I wasn't going to call your boss. He sounds like a dick.” Jon gave a harsh bark of laughter, and Theon sighed inwardly. The lecture would continue.

Jon did not shy away from using the full force of his voice as he spoke. “You think it's that simple? Just say, 'I didn't mean it,' and everything's fine? Oops, we fucked in the office. I know you said that's a dealbreaker for you, but _no worries, man_ ,” he aped at Theon's casual drawl and shrugged like Fonzie from Happy Days. “What do you want me to say here? Huh?” He tapped Theon's shoulder, a jab with no force behind it. Theon rolled his eyes. He would not indulge such childishness, but Jon continued with an increased edge to his voice. “You can have your job back. Is that what you want to hear?” Theon raised his brows and shot him an endearing look, but Jon shook his head. “I'm sorry, but the world doesn't work like that. You can't just say, 'I didn't mean it,' and have everything go back to how it was before.” Jon paused as if waiting for his words to sink in.

After holding a solemn expression for a moment, Theon couldn't stop himself from giving half a grin as he met Jon's eyes. “Yeah, I don't really give a shit about the job dude. It's fucking boring.” He watched Jon deflate before turning back to the bright blue sky. They were just now passing the smokehouse, still ten minutes from home. The chunky beige building squatted in the middle of an empty concrete lot, like a single rook on a chessboard. Earlier today, that lot had been filled with cars milling for parking spots. Though he'd always hated the crowd, he'd recently come to appreciate the quality of the seafood they sold. The crab legs especially were ambrosia compared to the small, tasteless things they sold in many of the lower states.

After a long pause, Jon spoke hesitantly, “You don't care at all? Why'd you even apply?” Theon shrugged. “What are you going to do for money?” Jon asked.

“Flip burgers, whatever.” Who cares? Theon thought.

“Did you just graduate?”

“Yeah..?” Theon answered slowly with a quirked brow. Jon's tone had dipped back into chiding mother.

“Don't get me wrong, your professionalism is _extremely_ lacking. But you seem smart enough. Why aren't you applying for college?”

Theon bristled. “You're not my boss anymore, so no one gives a shit what you think.”

Jon scoffed, and then they were both quiet. The lull lingered, and Theon relaxed his head against the closed window. There was surprisingly little traffic today. The only car he saw was an old white Cadillac. It drifted behind them as they rode the winding curves of the country road.

When Jon spoke again, his voice was so soft, at first Theon wasn't sure he'd heard it. “If you wanted to do that again sometime. _Outside_ the office, obviously. We'd need to use a condom.”

Theon laughed. “I'm not _that_ desperate, dude.”

“Are you serious?” Jon shot him a look before bringing his hand to his forehead. He began to massage it as if he were developing a headache. “No, of course not, you never are.”

“Aren't you fucking Ygritte anyway?” Theon cheerfully changed the subject.

To Jon's credit, a slight blush came to his cheeks. “Well, we always use protection.” Theon shot him a disbelieving look. “ _I_ always use protection,” Jon insisted. At Theon's growing smirk, he snapped, “I'm sorry I wasn't prepared today. I usually bring a condom in case a coworker decides to fuck me.”

A silence descended on them again, and Theon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Still five minutes from home. He found his eyes drawn to the boxy white car. It had crept closer over the past mile to ride their bumper. Why did the driver not pass? Theon turned in his seat to get a better look at him. He was a large man with gray hair buzzed close to his skull and deep lines around his mouth. He wore a white shirt that looked two sizes too small. As Theon stared, the man met his gaze with a sullen grimace. Fuck you too, Theon thought. He rolled down his window and stuck his head out. “Hey!” He yelled at the man, who met his eyes mutely. “Get back, bitch!”

“Stop that! Why are you yelling at people?” Jon flailed a hand to grab him, but Theon leaned on the dash to avoid it.

“That guy's too fucking close. Pull over!”

“What are you talking about? We're almost to your place. Calm down.”

As if heeding his words, the car had slowed, falling behind. But then before Theon could draw a breath, he was gunning forward, his engine whining with the effort. His Cadillac was not a muscle car, not even a coupe, but a sedan like theirs. Perhaps a bit heavier due to its age. Not a ramming car. Still, he raced towards them. The road was a narrow two-lanes, plunging on either side into a ditch. After that, the ground opened up into a dense matting of hemlock and spruce.

“Pull over!” Theon shouted again.

Jon turned to him, brows furrowed, but he did not turn the wheel. They would be hit, thrown. To flip into the ditch or to smash into the clustered trunks. Jon stared at Theon for ages. At Theon, even as the whine of the approaching engine grew.

Theon dove for the wheel. He would steer them out of the way. The ditch would not work at Jon's speed, but the other lane was clear. He grabbed the wheel and jerked it up. Jon shouted and shoved Theon back with a single hand. The blow landed like a kick from a horse. Theon flew back, slamming his shoulder against the door. His head dangled through the open window in the whipping wind.

The world rushed by in a blur of black and brown and green. Everything tilted, and Theon slid further against the door. The blood rushed to his head. A horn blared deafeningly. Theon scrabbled at the car seat to find a handhold. The only thing that did not slip from his fingers was the small plastic lever for adjusting the seat back. With a claw-like hand, he clung to the bit of plastic until his fingers grew numb.

Then world shifted again, and he flew backward against Jon. The horn began to fade as Jon's Camry rolled to a stop. The blur outside righted itself into the steep edges of the ditch. They had lodged in the bottom lopsidedly with the right wheels higher than the left. The radio continued to blare until Jon shut off the engine with a snap. The only sound then was their heavy breathing. Jon turned to Theon. His eyes were wide and his skin pale.

“You almost got us killed. Are you fucking crazy?” he began softly.

Theon's heart pounded so loudly in his chest, he wanted to rip it out.“You're the one who drove us full speed into the ditch.”

“Because of you!” Jon shouted. “ _You_ grabbed the wheel. _You_ steered us into oncoming traffic.”

“He was going to hit us!” Theon shouted.

“Who? The nice old man behind us? If you really want to kill yourself, I can give you a list of ways that are both easier and more effective than what you tried back there. Or is that not your style, you have to take someone with you?” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “Christ, what's wrong with me? Almost dying over a good lay. Nothing's worth this much trouble.”

Theon clenched his fists as he felt a wave of nausea pass over him. Jon's words had landed like a slap from Asha. “Fuck you, just take me home.” He leaned his head against the window and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Just take you home.” Jon laughed angrily. “That's how this started isn't it? So you could seduce me into giving you better reports. Let you get away with whatever you wanted. But when that didn't work, you had to up your game. I know what you're doing, Theon. I've been lenient for too long. I've been weak. That's over now. I will not be threatened. If I see your face or even _hear_ about some stunt you've pulled, you'll be sorry.”

Theon did not respond. He did not open his eyes. Jon would take him home, or he would walk. Though, his muscles trembled with exhaustion, like he'd just come back from a run, he could make it.

“No comeback?” Jon asked. “Are you actually feeling badly about what you did? No, that's too much to hope for? Fine, let's forget it. I'll take you home one last time. Think you can make it without flinging yourself at me?”

Jon sat in silence for a moment as if considering continuing the argument. Theon was relieved to find that he did not. As Jon started the car, Theon felt his chest tighten. He braced himself in his seat as they lumbered out of the ditch. When the car stopped again, Theon opened his eyes to the dirt parking lot of his and Asha's apartment building.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked warily.

“I'm still alive. No thanks to you.” Theon said. He opened the door and peeled himself away from the seat. He saw Jon staring at him and braced himself for another insult. But Jon sighed and said, “If you need a reference for college or something, email me.”

Theon slammed the door and flipped him off with both hands as he walked back along the path to his apartment. Still, Theon was relieved. He'd never have to see Jon or that hideous door of his ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took much longer to write than the others for a bunch of reasons. Hope it turned out well.


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